A Second Chance for Life
by Araceil
Summary: Stopped. To be rewritten under 'The End of Days'. Hopefully much to a better quality.
1. Chapter 1

**D I decided to try something a little different to what I've been seeing around the HP-fan sections. Sure there's loads of 'characters go back in time to change the future events' and what-not. But in almost every single one I _have_ come across, they always merge with their younger selves. I figured it would be a little more interesting to play it as Alternative realities.**

_I do not own Harry Potter; all characters/spells/locations/events that do not belong to the canon are my rabid brain-bunnies, the products of plot-bunnies humping my leg. (Do not ask.)_

Full Summary: (HALFBLOOD PRINCE NEVER HAPPENED!) Harry Potter won the war. But not without a price. Everyone he's known and loved is dead and gone and the ruins of the Wizarding world still run with the blood of the dead. So he chooses to travel to another reality where Voldemort is still alive, and all those he knew and cared for were still alive. He chose to fight again, because war was all he knew. **WARNING rated for a god-damn reason.**

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**Chapter 1: **Check and Mate

Funny how everything ended in the very place it started.

17-year-old Harry Potter coughed violently, pushing himself up on shaky sweat-streaked arms as dust, wild magic and Soul Magic swirled around violently, causing his Blood-magic runes to light up, twisting across his skin and body in a wildly chaotic dance of dark crimson. Aside from the sound of the wind whistling desolately across the battle field that had once been the front lawn of Hogwarts, the vague flapping of clothing and Harry coughing, all was silent.

"Did it work?" The dark haired male rasped; his voice raw from chanting those finishing words, wild magic burning and clawing its way through every pore in his body to pour out into the world and obliterate the splintered festering soul of Voldemort.

'_I need to know. Need to see this... this end. Please... let it end. Let this be the end. Let him be dead, or rise up and strike me down. I can't take this anymore. This needs to end._' He thought crawling weakly toward where the grass was dying; floating shadows of neon colours visible in the magic enriched atmosphere... he finally understood what Ryuu meant when he said lost souls looked beautiful, regardless of the death around them.

No one answered him and the scent of death and wild magic was thick in the air as the eerie swirling wind died, Harry coughed weakly pushing himself into a half lotus sitting position, his _Avada Kedavra_ green eyes glassy as he surveyed the rotting remains of Voldemort's constructed body. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the slowly decaying corpse in front of him, without the soul to hold the various Magicks used to create it, the constructed frame was slowly turning to ash, supported only by Harry's wildly fluxing aura, the magic enriched atmosphere and the lingering souls of the battle field.

"Check mate. You lose Tom." He croaked finally looking away from the bane of his existence since 13-months of age.

He leaned back and shifted into a crossed leg position, his whole body numb as he tried to register everything in front of him. Harry flinched as something dripped onto his bare-arm, the hot liquid burning the icy cold blood-magic runes still glowing on his pale skin, it took Harry a few seconds to realise just what it was.

A tear. He was crying... he hadn't cried since Ron's death at the end of his sixth year. He'd cried and mourned at Hermione and Ginny's deaths, but it was something else entirely when your brother and first ever bestfriend dies.

Harry sighed and wearily got to his feet, after Sirius' death... everything just went tits-up for the Wizarding world, then there was the whole debacle with the Horcruxes, and then Harry discovered his true lineage when he turned 17-years-old and an entirely new branch of his mother's family who were, indeed, magical. The mind boggled.

"Ryuu!" He croaked out across the battle field looking for his cousin's tell-tale dark crimson hair, if anyone would have survived the backlash of wild soul magic Harry used, it would have been Ryuu. The red head was practically a creature _of _Soul Magic, that and as he so eloquently put it after both he and Harry had been locked up in one of Voldemort's strong-holds, he was like a cockroach, you simply couldn't kill him. Harry choked on his laughter remembering that particular jaunt; he doubted if Snape would be forgetting the spitfire red head anytime soon. It was hard to forget the face of the brat who ripped your left eye out.

Neither would Harry. Like Sirius, like Remus, like Ron and Hermione and like the rest of the Weasleys', Neville and Luna... Ryuu was part of his family. His inner circle of 'leap-in-front-of-Unforgivables-for' friends. Speaking of which, he tried not to look at the red-haired corpses clustered around the great mound of black scales that had once been Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback that Hagrid loved more than was healthy.

Harry refused to look at the dead bodies of the remaining Weasleys. Percy and Arthur Weasley were the first to die, not even a month after the first siege of the Ministry of Magic Voldemort struck again, obliterating everyone in the building. The news rocked the family to the core. Then at Bill and Fleur's wedding, half way through Harry's sixth year, Death Eaters attacked again, knowing full well that most of the Order of the Phoenix –Dumbledore's private army of the Light, would be assembled. Bill died in the attack, mauled by Fenrir Greyback who later met his end at Remus' claws.

When Bill died, on her wedding day no less, Fleur became driven by revenge. Harry smiled vaguely at the memory, the French Veela was icy cold and burning in her fury, she became a fearsome adversary and the Death Eaters learned to fear her very, _very_ quickly. The French girl fought fire with fire and knew more Dark Curses than Harry thought existed –and he shared a mind with Vol-diddle. She rallied the French Veelas and the Centaurs, who were more inclined to listen to another magical based creature; she even helped negotiate with the Fae to form an alliance. The Fae would not outright go against Voldemort, their Magicks were not made for fighting, but they would provide relief and aid. Their healing Magicks far outstripped that of a human's and in their presence it seemed that those on the brink of death could be brought back to the land of the living. Harry closed his eyes when he caught a flash of the woman's silver moon hair, lying beside the prone body of Mrs Weasley and her younger sister Gabrielle.

Molly Weasley was a lioness in battle. Harry choked back more tears as he thought of his surrogate mother. The proud red headed Matriarch _was_ like a lioness in battle, she held her head high and dug in deeply against everything the Death Eaters threw at their family, she never hung her head nor backed down from the challenge. She stood proud and strong against the tide of darkness and despair, picking everyone up and dusting them off before forging ahead through the chaos. If Harry was their saviour... Molly Weasley was their Strength. Simple as that.

The twins, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Ryuu, Selene, Ixion, Charlie, Dimitri, Ilia, Remus, Tonks, Hagrid, Mrs Weasley, Fleur, Gabrielle, Krum, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody, Flitwick...

His friends, His family, His mentors.

His fault.

Harry bit his lip and screamed, whirling around where he stood he flung an arm out at Voldemort's corpse, his magic burning him from the inside out even as his sadness and grief tore him to shreds.

"**_ITS ALL YOU'RE FAULT! CRUCIO CRUCIO CRUCIO!_**" he howled throwing curse after curse after curse at the corpse, watching it convulse as the nerves that were left were repeatedly burned as if dipped in acid.

Harry dropped to his knees sobbing bitterly at the unfairness of it all. No one was alive... he snorted, what was the point in living if there was no one around for the after party?

'_cuz if ya keel yer self noo I'll kick yer arse so 'ard Tommy-boi'll feel it._'

Harry coughed on a weak chuckle as he imagined Ryuu's heavily accented voice stating those exact words before treating Harry to a firm slap upside the head. After Ron's death, the hot-tempered Russian/Scots boy became one of the only people capable of having physical contact with Harry and not having a couple of bones and joints shattered in the process.

Harry just flopped back, leaning against the blood soaked grass as the scent of death drifted thickly over the field, he dimly felt his animagus forms react to the icy tendrils of approaching Dementors, they would be kept back by the sheer amount of Wild Magick in the vicinity and then no doubt they would swoop down upon the area in search of survivors to feed on. To feed on Harry. To feed on the _sole survivor._

Sole survivor again...

Story of his life.

A cruel, bitter wind swept up and around him causing the boy to shiver, remembering all the little cuts and bruises across his body and the tears and blood on his clothes. He sighed pushing himself to his feet; he would get sick if he stayed outside... the black haired male stood still feeling the magic humming in the air, watching with glassy pain filled eyes as the glowing souls drifted lazily in the deep orange and red sunset.

He didn't know how long he stood there but the sun-finally dipped below the horizon and the air took on a biting chill as the wild Magicks that held the Dementors at bay began to drift apart. With a half-hearted sigh, Harry apparated back to the small cottage he owned on the moors of Scotland, near lake Lacramose, the only home he had that was still standing after the Burrow was burned down and Hogwarts fell.

Pushing open the door, he hissed a tired hello to his black cobra as she lifted herself up from her favourite cushion in front of the fire to eye him with an azure blue eye. Kyra began hissing questions at him but Harry simply waved a hand and collapsed onto the nearest bed, the one that was once Ron's, and promptly passed out.

The black Cobra hissed her displeasure before giving the reptile equivalent of a sigh and slithering from her favourite spot on the cushion to curl up upon her master's chest. She shot a look to the fire turkey watching them with beady black eyes on an old wooden perch and hissed threateningly at it.

No matter how much _masssster_ liked that flaming turkey Fawkes, she could never trust something that never died.

It just wasn't natural.

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When Harry woke up the next morning, everything was quiet, he couldn't hear Fleur or Mrs Weasley bustling about the kitchen making breakfast, nor could he hear Ryuu chattering on about anything and everything with Ilia and Dimitri, a Russian Werewolf (Ilia) and Vampire (Dimitri) and eventually getting into an argument with Dimitri who would call on his girlfriend Gabrielle Delacor for reinforcements.

Everything was silent save the faint hissing snores of Kyra and the gentle sound of flames that he identified with Fawkes.

And then he remembered the reason why it was silent. Screwing his face up he threw a silencing charm over both Fawkes and Kyra before screaming as long and as loudly as he could, screaming until his throat was raw and he was red face with lack of breath.

And finally he collapsed back on the bed, breathing sharp and fast, silent, but still screaming inside. He squeezed his eyes shut suddenly boneless, empty, unable to move as the image of Voldemort's rotting corpse rose to his mind.

It was finally over.

So why didn't he feel relieved or happy?

Harry looked around the tiny cottage, one, two... seven empty beds, an empty house... the lingering perfumes of Fleur and Gabrielle, the warmth he associated with Mrs Weasley, the messy clothes strewn across the room that belonged to Ryuu, Ilia's drawings on a random desk –pictures and sketches of known Death Eaters and maps of their safehouses, Gabrielle's potion bottles on a side board complete with a few medical necessities... the orange bedspread that belonged to Ron's bed, Hermione's old books in a bookcase next to the bathroom door... Ginny's butter yellow comforter on the end of his bed... the Firebolt against the wall along with everyone else's brooms –Harry made sure they got Nimbus 2000's or better even if he had to buy them himself. Moody's foe-glass and trunk at the end of Ryuu's bed. Dimitri and Ryuu's notes on various magical spells, events and rituals –those two once they stopped arguing were geniuses that Hermione would have bowed down to.

Everything was there... but everyone wasn't.

Harry curled into a ball, ignoring Kyra's hiss of alarm and protest as he did so, the black Cobra slithered out from between his arms and watched him in deep concern as the raven haired boy started shaking, sobbing uncontrollably.

Good god Potter! Get a grip on yourself! What would Snape or Malfoy say if they saw you now?

The most Powerful wizard in Europe, crying like a baby because a few people were dead!

_Get a grip! Stop blubbering and get up! _Harry mentally snarled at himself and snapped upright, startling Kyra into recoiling right off the bed, only Harry's Seeker reflexes prevented her from hitting the floor in a painful position.

Fawkes trilled suddenly, preventing anything Kyra would have said to her master, startling Harry out of his daydreaming. The phoenix looked at him intensely and Harry had to chuckle, it reminded him of Ilia when she was busy trying to remember what certain Death Eaters looked like. The girl was an artistic genius and used her talent –which had once been squandered on doodling comics for her own amusement, to show everyone what certain Death Eaters looked like. If they pulled the right memories from selected Death Eater minds, she could sketch out a map of their safe houses and even the surrounding countryside so they could pinpoint exactly where said Safehouse was. Her expression when she was drawing was intense and the look in Fawkes beady black eyes reminded Harry vividly of the young She-Werewolf.

"What's wrong Fawkes?" The phoenix trilled again and floated almost ethereally over to the book-case by the bathroom and tugged one of the volumes out. Harry frowned swinging his legs onto the floor and padding over to pick the book up. "This is... one of the research journals that Hermione, Dimitri and Ryuu worked on before the Hogwarts Massacre." He muttered looking at the fire bird now perched on the coat hanger in the corner with confused and curious emerald eyes.

_Maybe this can give you hope_. The phoenix told him in soothing tones, onyx eyes meeting Emerald orbs, the soothing deep voice of the fire bird resonating in the 17-year-old's head as he used a kind of telepathic Legilimens. Harry frowned a little and flipped it open and sat down on Dimitri's rather dusty bed, he didn't use it toward the end of the war; Vampires need very little sleep so it became more common to see Charlie or Moody snoozing on the dark grey bedding than the mahogany haired Vampire.

Theory on blood-magic rituals in Dimitri's elegant script, Soul magic notes and tips in Ryuu's untidy tiny ball-point scrawl, Necromancy and Spell creation in Hermione's tiny black handwriting –looking almost typed. Harry frowned, what on earth could be in here that Fawkes thought would give him hope?

The answer came in the form of a small envelope and note book dropping out from where two pages were torn horizontally in the middle of the page and glued together along the sides. Creating a kind of crude paper pocket. Harry's frown deepened as he picked the envelope off of his lap and looked at it, it was written in Hermione's type-like writing... he opened it.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you're reading this then the war is over and I'm no longer there. I asked Fawkes to show this to you if everything went for the worst. I'm so sorry I went and died on you, if Ron's alive and reading this over your shoulder... tell him that I'm sorry and I love him and always will? Thanks._

_In the note book you'll find some research that Dimitri, Ryuudo and I did on the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. We found out some rather interesting things about it, true it leads to the after-life, but that's not all. It acts as a through way to other times, places and realities. _

**Alternative realities man, think Sliders only way cooler. (Or if you're not familiar with Sliders then Dr Who should give you a jump start. It's a classic so you should have heard of it!)**

_It's all in the note book, Ryuu and Dimitri helped me with most of it so there should be no problems, just please be careful when passing through. We don't know what'll happen when you reach the otherside._

_Love always,_

_Hermione_

**PS: Dude, if I'm dead, don't let Ilia bury me in a dress! And please, don't let Donovan use necromancy to bring me back. I'm not into the Necrophilia scene!**

Harry smiled weakly at the end notes, only Ryuu would say something like that. Then again it wasn't really surprising, as a creature born with natural Soul Magic, Ryuu was capable of finding and knowing his Soul-mate at a glance, Vampires over 1000-years could do the same but it was more an instinctual thing than an actual visible attachment. Donovan was a 4000-year-old Vampire from before the First Ice-Age with a mastery in Blood-magic, Necromancy, Soul magic and Duelling –he was not above raising his lover from the dead just to spend an hour longer with him.

4324-years-old and only now did he find his Soul Mate, not 8 months ago. Of course it took more than a while for the Vampire Ancient and the 14-year-old spitfire boy to finally admit it. It took almost everyone by surprise, everyone that hadn't been in the room when Donovan thought to try and snog the living daylights out of the 14-year-old just to prove that they weren't the other half of each-other's souls.

The magical backlash left all those in the room dizzy for a full half hour.

Harry put the note down and flipped open the note book, eyes widening as he did so.

"Oh... Holy... Mother of Magic." He breathed reading through the notes and diagrams greedily; as if it were a meal and he'd been starved for a fortnight. Fawkes trilled softly when Harry stopped reading on the last page, "Fawkes... you, you're prepared to do this?" He asked slightly incredulously, looking at the phoenix steadily as the bird nodded its swan-like neck.

Hope is more important than I am. With my familiar gone and everyone passed on, there is no reason to remain on this plane of existence. Dumbledore and I promised. The phoenix told him softly, Harry frowned looking down at the notebook. The power needed to travel through the veil was tremendous, you would need to be immortal to survive the transfer and even so, when you appeared the other side, your magical core would self destruct and kill you. Hermione and Dimitri came to the realisation that Fawkes could power the veil long enough for _one_ person to go through unharmed, their magic intact, but it would cost the phoenix his life as he was both immortal and made of magic. In effect, Fawkes would go to the afterlife in Harry's stead while he went through to another reality. Unfortunately, even if Harry got eh Fawkes of the other world to power the veil, he couldn't return, the amount of magic necessary for the transfer would cause the original veil he went through to self destruct.

In short: Fawkes goes to the after-life instead of Harry. Harry goes to alternative reality. Veil goes boom...

Harry can never return.

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**First chapter! (boogies) please toss me some reviews to tell me what you think ladies and gents and magical creatures of all ages! That includes you fangirls but please, keep the squealing fangirling to a minimum. **

**Flamers will be eaten by Norbert. X3**

Araceil


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:** Beyond the Veil of Souls

"OK, so according to Hermione and Ryuu's notes I need to move the veil to the exact location I wish to appear at after crossing over... The other veil won't be there so the landing'll be bumpy." Harry muttered to himself as he paced through the trees from Hogwarts leading to the ruined remains of Hogsmeade; book in one hand, the other running the smooth wood of his Holly wand against the back of his neck as he walked.

He'd apparated back to the battle ground and started the burial grounds for all the Order members and those who fought on the side of the Light; he also tossed every Death Eater he came across in a mass grave without so much as a simple inscription craved on the large rock in front of it.

Harry had left it at that and tossed a large amount of dirt over the corpses before using some magic to flatten the ground, he then turned to the separate graves of each Light fighters, be they human, vampire, werewolf, veela, fae, centaur or half giant. Everyone got their own little grave with a white head stone depicting their names, when they died, when they were born and what house/school they were in. Every grave had a single white lily on it.

Now he was on his way to the ruins of the Ministry of Magic, surprisingly, only the Department of Mysteries survived the onslaught that Voldemort threw at the Ministry because they had a completely separate set of wards that were far more elaborate and powerful than anything the government goons came up with. So the veil was safe.

Harry sighed and strode through the ruins of Hogsmeade, side stepping some ruined beams from the Three-broomsticks, when a stray _Reducto_ hit Zonkos and went boom which set of a chain reaction at Dervish and Banges and then it ignited the Fire Whiskey and other alcohols in the Three Broomsticks and Hogs Head and then everything just went tits up when some Ministry morons started trying to put the fires out with lots of water thus causing all of Zonkos no heat wet start fireworks to go KA-BOOM! Hogsmeade was destroyed by equal effort from both Death Eaters and Ministry Morons. Harry shook his head sadly as he finally reached the outskirts, a small clearing in front of the Shrieking Shack with a lonely little white tombstone in front of it.

"Hey Uncle Moony," Harry breathed kneeling in front of the tomb, "sorry I haven't been round very often but the last few days have been pretty hectic." The boy explained and sat down on the ground, ignoring the chill that seeped through his robes. "Well, it worked. Tommy-boy's dead. Its over." He said looking up at the cloudless sky, hearing the faint hoots of a barn owl that always seemed to linger around Hogwarts, probably one of the school owls who couldn't bring itself to leave.

"No one's left behind, they're all gone Reemy. All gone. All dead." He whispered feeling a hot clawing sensation in his chest even as his eyes prickled and ached with suppressed tears. "Even Red." He added pursing his lips, Red was Remus' personal nickname for Ryuu, after-all, when Harry received his letter from Gringotts informing him about his claim to the Morrigan(1) –better known as Ravenclaw – bloodlines, Remus did a lot of digging and found Harry's only living magical relative.

Ryuudo Felix Kentaro Thomason, two years younger than Harry himself, the only survivor of the Thomason massacre where Death Eaters stormed the house of a high ranked Russian Auror –head of Magical Law enforcement and Russian Muggle-Magic military, and _crucio_'d the whole family to death. Remus had been the one to make the initial contact with the boy when he was still paralysed in a Russian hospital from the severe nerve damage associated with the cruciatus. Ryuu turned out to be the receiver of Rowena Ravenclaw's Seer and Soul Magic gifts, the boy was the strongest Seer in the Northern Hemisphere –one of the only recorded Seers capable of _remembering_ what they Saw. Add to that, he could read people's Souls like someone would read a book made him invaluable to their cause as he could tell when a Dark sympathiser or a Spy was anywhere in their organisation. Remus was a little miffed that Ryuu ended up with a Vampire for a Soul Mate, add to the small fact there was over 4000 years in age difference between them and things got complicated.

He leaned back against the headstone, knowing that Remus wouldn't mind, and looked up at the sky taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself and reinforce his Occlumency walls. "But they didn't leave me behind. I can't carry on living here, I was made for war, I can't just carry on as if it never happened. I lost too many people dear to me." He muttered running his fingers absentmindedly on his tattoo'd upper left arm, a silver Christian cross with rose thorns twisting around it and the names of all those dear and near to him written in Parselmouth; his parents names written in a small red orb that wept blood at the very top of the cross, crimson liquid running down the silver cross. It was oddly fitting in Harry's opinion; of course Remus almost hit him when he saw that but instead opted to hug him and not let him go for a half-hour.

Harry sighed dropping his arm. "The Americans'll be coming over to help with the relief and aid soon. And when everything is said and done, when the rebuilding has been finished and people are finally settling down back into some semblance of what their lives once were. I'll be called up for war-crimes or just executed by the new Ministry as a possible threat to them. Such is my life." He said laughing bitterly and just for a moment he felt an odd warmth on his tattoo, like a hand pressed against it, and then the feeling was gone.

Harry smiled, a soft bitter sweet expression, "Hermione knew that we would win, that I would win. She knew that no one would be left, girl must have had some dormant Seer blood like Luna." He commented absently, conjuring a snow ball in his hand by freezing the water in the air and forcing it into the spherical shape he wanted. "They left me a note book, there's a way out of this in it. They gave me a way to go somewhere else, somewhere... where everyone's alive, where the Boy-Who-Lived... doesn't exist. Sounds good doesn't it?" He asked looking at the head-stone with a sour smile.

"Don't cry Reemy, it's what I want. Sure Tommy-boy'll still be alive in that world but I'll have the advantage this time. He won't know what hit him," he said a dark smirk twisting on his lips. "And I'll make sure that no one hurts you, ever again. I'll tear anyone to shreds even if they think it." He snarled viciously throwing the snow ball with all his considerable strength –thanks to the blood-magic runes, at a tree, watching in satisfaction as it turned into an iron cannon ball with a flick of wandless magic and broke through one of the tree branches.

"I'll kill them before they kill anyone else." He growled more than a little ferally, a habit he picked up from Remus in the years they spent together training in the Room of Requirement. Harry sighed and leaned back against the tomb-stone, feeling tears once again run down his cheeks, he'd been doing that a whole lot more often now that Tom was gone and the strings of tension that kept him together snapped.

"So I guess this is goodbye," he whispered allowing that strange spectral warmth to wrap around him again, true Harry thought Remus would rather be buried with everyone up at Hogwarts but... he wasn't going to move the werewolf anywhere if he'd finally attained the peace he was oh-so-desperately denied in life.

"Even if this doesn't work... I won't be coming back. I'm sorry Reemy, there's nothing else for it. No reason to stop, to step back from the chance to help again, to see you again." That said, Harry got to his feet and brushed himself off shaking the tears off of his face as he did so.

"If it doesn't work... I'll see you soon anyway. Save me a Fire Whiskey at the after-party." He said quietly and apparated away from the lonely little grave and the sudden cold wind that swept through the little clearing.

No one but the barn owl saw the very faint resistance in the air, or the tiny patter of something that couldn't be rain drop to the ground.

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For the next month Harry Potter readied himself to appear in the other world, he couldn't step through the veil with anything magical upon his person as the veil would absorb all the magic out of it and thus out of Harry and then both he and Fawkes would die in the transfer. So. Harry decided that since no one would be using it anytime soon to take Moody's old trunk with the different compartments, one filled with books and research notes that once belonged to the four genius's in Harry's life, one compartment filled to the brim with every potion he could think of that might be useful -mostly Dreamless Sleep and Headache relievers, he would have to be careful from now on, he was already building an addiction to them. He filled another compartment with clothing and various personal nick-knacks and another compartment with weaponry, anything he might find useful, swords, daggers, tasers, guns, even piano wire and some explosives. He shrunk the trunk and hid it in a small stone of obsidian along with his wands and broomstick, which would be worn as a ring on his right hand. Obsidian had the effect of dampening magic both inside and out of the hollowed out compartment, the actual band around his finger was made of iron and as iron restricted the use of magic, the shrinking spell Harry had used on the trunk would not be registered. He was safe to go through the Veil wearing it.

The 17-year-old knew he couldn't possibly go to Diagon Alley and make a withdraw from Gringotts if he was dead in that world, so he ensured he had everything he could possibly need, including a new name and appearance. After Sirius's death, Dumbledore decided that it was about time Harry got some official training, after said teenager melted half of his office in a temper tantrum. So Harry, Moody and Remus went into isolation in the Room of Requirement, but with a little advantage. Moody smuggled a Time-Turner in with him.

Harry Moody and Remus spent a three years in the Room of Requirement, in the space of a few hours every day for a week –before finally admitting to Dumbledore what they'd done, training in everything from hand to hand combat, duelling strategies, potions, interrogation techniques –more commonly known as 'how to torture someone to get what you want' (Moody's idea.) and in the few times when Harry had to do something on his own he asked Remus and Moody to leave, specifically when he practiced his Parselmagic and Bloodmagic. They also worked on animagus transformations, much to Harry's delight, Remus was very useful in this, despite the fact he never achieved the transformation he was still present while the others studied on how. And Moody, much to Harry's surprised, turned out to be an unregistered American black Grizzly bear, missing eye to boot.

Additionally, Harry brewed a few potions to... give him an extra boost. A growth solution which would make him grow to a grand total of 6'4" in height. There was also a potion to correct Near-Sightedness, that one was not only a bitch to brew but also very painful to administer. Harry also brewed a potion to make his hair grow longer, a permanent potion that made his normally untameable black hair shoulder length and wavy, easier to manage. Also there were a few tattoos that Harry had done much to Remus's disgust and Moody's amusement, and also the piercings curtsey of the Weasley twins. All in all, Harry looked nothing like the scrawny Boy-Who-Lived, expected to win the war with the innocence of a child that Dumbledore expected, but someone who would throw some of the nastiest hexes imaginable your way if you stepped on his foot.

McGonagall refused to speak to him for a week when she found out what he'd done.

To go with the new appearance Harry made himself a new name, at first he thought of combining his parents' names, James Sirius Moony Evans, in honour of those he lost first. But then he figured it would be too obvious. So Harry decided to go with something a little darker.

Evan Cruentus Guthrie Mortifer. Or Evan Mortifer –the Death-Bringing Warrior. Evan meaning warrior, Cruentus bloody, Guthrie war-serpent and Mortifer Death-bringing in Celtic and Latin. So essentially... Harry named himself the Death-bringing bloody war-serpent warrior. A rather fitting name in his opinion. Kyra wasn't too pleased about it though.

His preparations complete, Harry James Potter – now Evan Mortifer – fixed his dragon-hide cloak around his shoulders and stared determinedly at the now relocated Veil. Kyra hissed in displeasure from where she was coiled on a near-by rock next to Crookshanks and Hedwig, she'd been hissing furiously at her masssster for the past 5 hours now because he couldn't take another living being through with him. Fawkes's sacrifice was only worth one ticket to another world.

"_Kyra, would you pleassssse ssstop complaining sssso? It isss mosssst unbecoming of your eleganc-ssss-e._" He pointed out in Parselmouth, sometimes a little flattery could rein in his volatile cobra's temper but this time the proud creature was not to be swayed.

"_Massssster, my eleganc-sssss-e isss usssselessss without ssssomeone to ssssee it. Ssssscruffy hatchhhhling, you will get yourssssself killed going through that whisssssspering light. How am I ssssupossssed to keep you sssssafe if I am not there to bite you when you sssstart being ssssstupid again!_" Harry had to admit, she had a point.

"_How about I find you in the nex-ssssss-t world? That way you know I will be ssssafe._" He suggested watching the cobra from the corner of his eye, the snake sniffed and turned away.

"_Sssssssss... very well. But I do not like thissss idea. Ssssssstupid flaming turkey, I do not trusssssst him._" Harry chuckled and tuned the snake out as she started threatening the phoenix who simply rolled his eyes and flew to the top of the arch, landing neatly upon the delicate looking stone.

_Are you ready_? Fawkes asked looking straight into Harry's eyes.

"As ready as I'll ever be." He stated, "_GoodBye Kyra,_ see ya Hedwig, Crookshanks." He called and took a deep breath and nodded to Fawkes who shrieked, fire suddenly engulfing him and lighting up the veil, the silvery moonlit appearance suddenly glowing and burning like the gates of hell.

Harry gritted his teeth and gripped his shirt tightly; it would be painful crossing over, but...

The image of Remus and Sirius floated into his mind, they were laughing, and then he saw the faces of everyone who had ever touched his heart and fought by his side during the war.

A lot had happened in the space of two years. He reflected as he took another step forward toward the flames, screwing his eyes shut against the heat. Kyra, Hedwig and Crookshanks watched desolately as their last master stepped through the veil, the fire suddenly swirling in after him, as if sucked in by a vacuum. Taking Fawkes with it.

The Veil glowed in the eerie silence of the afternoon, pulsing gently with fiery light. A light that grew more concentrated by the second before...

It was gone.

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It was raining.

I'll get sick if I stay here, he noted absently as he waited for feeling to return to his limbs. Feeling restored to the tips of his fingers and toes Harry –no, if he was going to pull this off he was going to have to be _Evan_ now, _Evan_ got to his feet and looked around.

Rain. The rain was coming down in thick, oppressing sheets of cold wet and grey, everywhere. Har-_Evan_ frowned slightly looking around, the rain was unusually harsh for early August, especially around Hogwarts, it was supposed to be sunny. Maybe his transfer caused a change in the weather; after all, a lot of power was used if it caused Fawkes to move on. H-_Evan_ shivered wrapping his dragon hide cloak around him tightly, fumbling just a little H-**_Evan_** gave up on hunting for his wand and cast a warming charm upon himself with a lazy wave of his hand.

"Right," he muttered under his breath twisting around as he tried to make heads or tails of where he was, "definitely on the path between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade... but which why is which?" he pondered twisting around on the spot, cursing his current footwear, shivering as the wet seeping through his trainers Evan wandlessly conjured a plain stool to sit on and lifted his feet.

"_Scourgify, impervious_." He muttered cleaning his trainers of the wetness before tossing an immunity charm upon them so the rain wouldn't be able to seep in again. That done he got to his feet again and banished the stool with a flick of his Holly wand –now recovered from his obsidian bracelet stone, and sighed. "Nothing else for it." He muttered "_Point me_." He whispered and smiled when his wand rotated on his hand to point north.

Great! Now he knew where he was! Whistling cheerfully Evan shoved his wand in his pocket and began his trek to Hogsmeade, hoping against everything that it was still standing. "_lumos_." He summoned, closing his eyes against the sudden flaring of light in the palm of his hand as he walked along the snow covered path.

"Well, it looks like Old Man Bumble-bee did _something_ right this time over." He muttered under his breath staring at the village of Hogsmeade, which wasn't quite such a village –more of a town, anymore. Cancelling out the _lumos_, H-**_Evan!_** He was going to have to get used to his new persona otherwise he would never be able to survive this stupid reality without arousing suspicion, Harry didn't particularly want to be tortured again.

Cancelling out the _lumos_, _Evan_ drew his cloak a little tighter about himself and trudged in the direction he hoped the Three Broomsticks still resided. Evan frowned as he noticed what residents that were out were also fingering their wands and eyeing him distrustfully, as if he were about to whip out his wand and start cursing everyone in sight. He snorted softly and bowed mockingly to a dark brunet man who was out and out glaring at him while he hurried his daughter down the street, his wand held protectively in front of them. It looked like Voldemort was _definitely_ alive and kicking in this reality.

Purrr-fect. He thought a ghost of a sadistic grin flickering across his lips as he approached the bright lights of the Three Broomsticks and ignored the hostile glares he received from a small gang of middle-aged men who looked as if they belonged out side an American Hick-town biker bar rather than Madam Rosmerta's cosy _family _establishment. Pushing his way inside he ignored how everyone went silent and slogged his way over to Madam Rosmerta who was stood behind the bar, her honey-blonde hair in its usual ringlets and those sparkly red high-heels that seemed to be as much her trade-mark in this reality as in his own.

"Good evening ma'am. I was wondering if you had any rooms left for the night. I've just come back a trip and I'm pretty wiped out." he explained with a weary smile, an expression he'd perfected many months ago to fend off Tonks's concern. When Remus died she seemed to take it upon herself to care for their 'son' –something which still warmed Harry to the core but also made him want to cry.

Madam Rosmerta smiled slightly, "Sure, we have a few rooms left." She chirped in a bright voice, so bright it had to be a front, Evan decided as she led him away from the bar to a flight of stairs just beside it. "What's your name stranger?" She asked softly, obviously a safe enough question. Evan chuckled,

"Evan Mortifer. I've been out of the country, so to speak, for a couple of years and decided that it was high time to get back before things heated up too much for me to do so." He explained being just vague enough to appease Rosmerta and still not give anything away. The blonde woman smiled again, this time it was genuine and just a little weary

"To be honest, you should've stayed out. Things are getting bad and getting bad fast." She pointed out leading Evan to a room at the end of the hall and unlocking it, the brass numbers reading F13. Evan grimaced at the door number, Friday the 13th, unlucky 13. Whatever, it was an omen.

"Thank you Miss... uhh, I never caught your name." He muttered for the sake of appearances.

She smiled, "Call me Rosmerta." She said, Evan nodded smiling mischievously,

"Of course, thank you Rosie." He teased chuckling when she frowned slightly, her cheeks flushing just that little bit.

"Breakfast is at 8 O'clock, we have a lunch service but you'll have to pay for that separately. I'll collect what you owe in the morning. You look like your going to drop. Bathroom's in there, if you have any problems don't hesitate to knock on my door, A1 bottom floor at the back through the kitchen." She explained smiling as she pointed out things of interest in Evan's new bedroom.

"Thank you. Goodnight Madam Rosmerta." He said nodding at her with a weary smile before closing the door as she left. Turning around he released his shrunken trunk from the ear-ring obsidian and enlarged it, Evan sighed as he began setting his things out, sketches of known Death Eaters, potions he might need in the morning –Sleeping Draught, Pepper-Up Potion, Calming Draught, Head-ache relieving Potion, Fever-reducing Potion, Accidental Magic suppression Draught. The last one having been invented specifically _for_ Harry, he had always been unusually good at Accidental Magic, and with his Voldemort-induced nightmares, he quite often nearly burned down their safe houses. Hermione and Ryuu had worked for days –weeks almost, to brew that potion, Dimitri hadn't been much help because he sucked at potions to a degree that would make Neville Longbottom appear to be the next Snape.

Sitting himself down cross-legged on the floor, Evan took three calming breaths even as he threw up an Anti-eves dropping ward, a Silencing spell strong enough to encompass the whole room, a locking charm on the door and a Perimeter alarm. Anyone who got within 3 feet of the door or even attempted to mess with the wards would get the shock of their lives and Evan would be notified instantly.

Now he had to see how strong this reality's Voldemort was. That meant taking down his Occlumency walls, hence why Evan had already dosed himself with an Accidental Magic Suppression Draught and had a head-ache reliever and fever reducer close at hand. If this Voldemort was anywhere near the same power as his reality's Voldemort before his Horcruxes were discovered and destroyed then the resulting head-ache from touching the putrid serpent's mind would be of cataclysmic proportions.

Evan took a deep breath and lowered his barriers, and shrieked with pain as his forehead tried to split open. He could _feel_ his scar split open and dribble rapidly with blood and pain, but the pain of his scar was nothing compared to the mental torture of Tommy-Boy at full power.

Evan hissed in pain doubling over as he gripped his forehead, eyes screwed shut against the pain as he gasped desperately, determined not to scream. They may have been different but Evan Mortifer, Harry Potter, the Lord of Potter, Black, Gryffindor, Slytherin (But only in his world) and Morrigan would never give that sick fuck the satisfaction of his scream –even if the wanker couldn't hear it.

Evan snarled in Parseltongue, and his Occlumency wall snapped shut around his mind, allowing it to withdraw into his personal shadows and lick its wounds while the body shivered and trembled as if subjected to repeated bouts of Cruciatus. The black haired Slythindor (3) shakily grabbed the head-ache reliever and downed it in one, recoiling slightly at the god-awful taste of the potion.

"Geez, with all the people who take this shit you'd think they could make it taste a little better." He grumbled his throat torn and raw, preventing him from being any louder. Secondly he snagged a minor healing potion and the fever reducer, the healing one would mend the damage done to his scar enough for his body to complete the healing by morning and it would repair some of the damage to his throat, the fever reducer would prevent him from burning up during the night and it would sooth the swelling and pain from his throat as well. All in all, Evan was glad he learned Potions from Remus and Moody; they were far better teachers than Snape. Far, far better teachers.

Evan sighed and got to his feet, he was still trembling, oh yeah, Tommy-boy was strong, full power and no doubt no one knew of his Horcruxes. Evan's face split into a malicious grin even as he stepped into the bathroom to wash off the blood, sweat and clean his potion vials. The mirror shuddered and whimpered when Evan stepped in front of it,

"Oh get a grip." He rasped sharply at the charmed object which tried to still as much as it could as he cleaned his scar and cleaned out the vials. That done he offered the object a sort of lopsided smile, "Don't worry, my bite is worse than my bark and biting glass isn't my definition of fun." He pointed out and chuckled weakly when the mirror breathed a sigh of relief.

Evan sighed heavily and slogged back into the bedroom, tossing up another –stronger, silencing ward he dropped into the bed, not bothering to remove his clothes and only just managing to wriggle out of his dragon-hide cloak before Morpheus claimed him.

He'd need to go to the library tomorrow. Read some old copies of the Daily Prophet or something. He couldn't go around acting like an ignorant or someone might get suspicious.

But sleep. Yes. Sleep was good.

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**(1) Morrigan:** Well, the crest symbol for Morrigan is the raven. I figured that since every Founder had an Alliterated name (Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff) that at least some of those names would be faked. The raven symbolises both Ravenclaw and Morrigan. As for Harry being the heir, well, his mummy wasn't as Muggle-born as she was led to believe and since a Pure-blood family from that long ago would consider women to be second class, the heir/Head of the family would have to be the oldest and most Magically powerful male child with Morrigan blood or a magic tie –Like Harry's tie with Slytherin through Voldemort. Ahh don't worry. It makes sense in my head.

**(2) Harry being the Lord to all those families:** Potter, Black, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Morrigan. Well, I've just explained Morrigan –he got that through his mother and since the family was Patriarchal the Heir could only be a male so Lily wasn't notified of it. Black, well Sirius was Harry's godfather so I assume that he would have left everything to the Potter heir should anything happen to him since Remus being a werewolf couldn't receive it due to Ministry regulation (the money would then go to the money grubbing Minister.) Gryffindor should be pretty obvious what with the Potter lineage being so rooted in Gryffindor. And as for Slytherin, Tom passed on his powers to Harry and in some twisted way because like a magical parent. So Harry became the Heir to Slytherin, which was later upgraded to the Lord of Slytherin when he ousted Voldemort in his world.

**(3) Slythindor:** Harry decided about half-way through his war that there was no way he could escape what he truly was. The Sorting hat had been right when it wanted to put him into Slytherin and yet Harry knew he was right when he was put into Gryffindor. '_You have the mind of a Slytherin, but your heart will always be in Gryffindor._' In effect, he also learned that he was the heirs to both Slytherin and Gryffindor. He became the first Slythindor and the last because as both Lion and Serpent, he was the one to unite them.

**Well review please! I always like to hear your thoughts!**

**Oh, by the by, this story will have some serious slagging off of Rowlings Wizarding world. I don't like it. Too prejudiced and bigoted, and Harry's going to make a point about that in this story. **

Don't forget to review!

Araceil


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:** War of words

Breakfast at the Three Broom-sticks was almost exactly how Harr-**_Evan_** remembered it, without everyone goggling at his forehead this time, but since they weren't doing that, they'd substituted for watching him fearfully/warily/angrily and fingering their wands under the table.

Evan simply rolled his eyes and asked for a full English breakfast, to which Madam Rosmerta smiled blindingly at and hurried off to get almost instantly. Apparently he'd made a good impression on her last night, it might've been the Rosie comment but Evan wasn't too keen on trying that again, he wasn't very friendly in the morning, his head was pounding –not enough to warrant a potion but enough to be distracting, memories of those that died the night before, having to tell the others who had fallen in the morning, the tears, the shouting, the weariness and the defeat. Evan hated mornings.

Evan grimaced and was almost tempted to push his plate away as memories of those mornings assaulted his mind, especially the morning when he had to tell Mrs Weasley that the Ministry had fallen. With a frown he shunted those aside with his Occlumency abilities and dug into the food with relish. It'd been a while since he'd tasted anything that compared to Mrs Weasley's cooking and it was safe to say Madam Rosmerta's cooks had out done themselves.

"Mr Mortifer, your bill." The blonde woman declared striding over to him from behind the bar; Evan nodded and rummaged around in his pocket for the money.

"Please, call me Evan. And I might be here a while so I'll give you the next three nights as well... Rosie." He added smirking at her as Madam Rosmerta arched an eyebrow playfully,

"Aren't you a little young to be hitting on women?" She asked lightly, Evan chuckled,

"It's only unethical if you get caught." He pointed out with a wicked grin. Rosmerta chuckled merrily,

"Still, I think you should stick to ladies your age. You don't even look as if you're out of Hogwarts." She exclaimed, Evan twitched, so... Hogwarts was still standing.

Evan shook his head, "Hogwarts? What's that?" He asked merely for appearances sake. Rosmerta gasped and slid into the seat opposite him,

"You don't know about Hogwarts? Oh my, we'll have to remedy that right now." She exclaimed and began to explain what Hogwarts was, who ran it and just how much of a great educational facility it was. Evan listened merely because it was polite; he already knew that most of what she was saying was merely hype that Dumbledore put out to get more children for his private little army of cannon fodder.

"What about you? What was your favourite subject? What school did you attend?" She asked suddenly, shaking him out of his thoughts. Evan blinked before his expression darkened and he looked away angrily.

"My school was destroyed." He answered shortly, Rosmerta paled dramatically.

"Oh Evan I'm so sorry, oh I've really put my foot in it this time, I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring up painful memories for you!" She exclaimed panicking just a little. Evan smiled slightly at her,

"It's OK. I know they're happy where they are, I did what they wanted when they were gone, now I've decided that I might as well do it again. Before another school gets destroyed." He explained his voice suddenly sounding very... desolate and alone. "I'll miss everyone there, ya'know? You can never replace your first best friend, or your first crush and favourite teacher but... you can heal if you remember the good times. Like I never had a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that lasted more than a year!" He explained suddenly amused, Madam Rosmerta smiled suddenly relieved that the darkness on the boy's face was gone.

"Which was weird because Defence was my best subject, I even beat my best friend for top marks in our third year; she was a genius when it came to academics! Of course third year was the _only_ year we actually had a competent teacher. Fifth year we had some Ministry approved bitch who decided that our headmaster wanted to over throw the Ministry, so she started to change our school into some kind of prison, no clubs, no Quidditch, no teaching of practical spells –everything had to be theory, and then she became convinced that I was the ringleader of some underground Defence Against the Dark Arts club. I left after that year, I had better things to do than get cursed by teachers." He growled stabbing his sausage roughly.

"She can't have cursed you! It's illegal to put curses on your students!" Rosmerta exclaimed appalled,

"She was the Minister's under secretary, she's above the law." Evan growled emerald eyes glinting harshly. "She hates halfbreeds, she even tried to get one of my bestfriends killed on the account he was a half-giant, accidentally sent one of our teachers into St Mungos when she came outside to see what all the fuss was, took 5 stunners to the chest before she even knew who or what was going on. Idiot bitch then had to go and wander into Centaur territory and start calling them filthy halfbreeds. She deserved what she got." He said with a savage grin on his face.

"B-but she... surely she didn't deserve to be left with them?" Rosmerta asked timidly,

The seventeen year-old gave her a cold look, "Take my word for it Rosie. You can only rely on yourself. Family, friends, brotherhood. Means absolute shit. And I am not about to allow some paper pushing frog faced cock juggling super cunt throw her weight around and make our lives hell, attempt to kill a friend, curse myself and friends and subject first years to a blood-spill quill. She's lucky I didn't snap her wand before leaving her to the Centaurs." He stated sipping at his tea, "Ruthless as it seems to you, but life is never fair, so why should we play by the rules?"

"But Albus–" Rosmerta began her eyes getting large,

Evan snorted, "Albus for all his holy mantle of the light is splattered with blood. His manipulations are far more damaging than anything Voldemort" cue collective flinch "has ever done because he chooses to twist the lives, perceptions and ideals of children too young to know when they're being played the part of a puppet." He then looked at Rosmerta seriously, "Why do you think Voldemort turned out to be such a sick puppy?" He asked softly, watching as the woman's eyes went huge as what he said finally registered in her mind.

Evan suddenly got to his feet, his chair toppling behind him; he righted it with a flick of wandless magic before swinging his cloak on, and storming out of the pub, leaving everyone inside gob smacked and staring after him.

No he wasn't bitter. Not in the least.

He was furious.

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'_Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, **STUPID!**_' Evan snarled in his head over and over again, like a mantra as he stalked out of the small town and into the forbidden forest, his bloodmagic runes suddenly flaring to life and lighting up the gloomy forest with a sinister red glow. '_Stupid little boy! You gave too much away! Far too much! Carry on like this and you'll get caught and locked up in the Department of Mysteries or worse, Riddle Manor or Grimmauld Place._' He mentally snarled.

'_C'mon, just because spells aren't whizzing over your head and there isn't the threat of immediate disembowelment is no reason to start acting like an idiotic Gryffindor first-year! This is a war, sure it's a stalemate over here but use your head! The Death Eaters aren't gone!_' he berated himself shooting a burning glare at the trees around him, startling a young Bowtruckle from its hiding place in an Ash wood tree.

Teeth bared, fists clenching and unclenching, his cloak billowing out in a rather Snape-esc manner, bloodmagic runes burning on his skin and _Avada Kedavra_ green eyes diamond hard and burning pretty much discouraged anyone from following him. He stalked in the direction of the Shrieking Shack hoping that he would get some privacy in that direction, enough so that if he started throwing blasting hexes powerful enough to take out a dragon at random trees to alleviate his anger no one would notice.

Evan growled finally reaching his desired clearing and throwing out a Wordless, wandless _Reducto_ at the nearest tree, blowing it out of the ground, roots and all where it fell to the ground, burning. He growled and threw another curse –a _Diffindo_ with enough power to be considered a souped up _Sectumsempra_, at another tree, slicing it and the one behind it clean in half.

"_Aguamenti_." He growled tossing off the mid-level water spell at the still burning tree which went out with a hiss of steam and smoke. He glared around him at the Shrieking Shack and remembered that it was the first place he ever came face to face with Sirius and knew who he was. The place where all his dreams suddenly flared into bright, sparkling clarity before being crushed into the mud and dirt by Snape.

A roar of anger tore through his throat as his fist shot out and went through the wooden fence around the Shack's property, the wood slicing cleanly in two and falling to the floor as its joints with the posts were so roughly torn free.

With a sigh of frustration he kicked a large puddle of rain water, causing it to fly in a sheet of brown liquid a good five feet away, before Apparating to Diagon Alley; Moody had thought it would be useful for Harry to learn it since he had such bad-memories of Portkeys which had an unfortunate habit of sending him to random places.

He needed to get to that library, and he wanted Ice-cream.

Popping softly to announce his arrival he ignored the startled yelp of a little girl sat on the near-by bench with her big-brother who glared at him, something which Evan ignored pointedly. He needed potion ingredients, an owl, information and a few more books on war tactics, spell creation and alternative reality theory wouldn't go amiss. Ignoring the children he stalked down the street, straight backed and proud, ignoring the fearful glances and the way people either reached for their wands or strategically avoided his gaze. It was hard to hide his disgust.

He finally reached the library which hadn't changed much since the last time Hermione dragged him there with Ron looking mutinous behind them and Ryuu and Remus chuckling at his expense. For the rest of the afternoon Evan stayed in the library reading through old copies of the Daily Prophet and a few Quibbler editions for his own personal amusement when he came across a particular horrifying article. Sitting back he sighed as he finally reached the most recent paper and rubbed his eyes,

"Uh miss?" He called to one of the library assistants, she blinked behind large bottle cap glasses, he decided that she would be rather cute if she got a pair of square glasses with thick black frames instead of the round silver ones that he remembered having in his first year of Hogwarts. "Is it alright if I conjure some coffee? I promise I won't spill it." He added giving her large puppy eyes.

The girl bit her lip and hugged a large spell book to her chest before sighing, "Um, sure OK. But if you spill it, just remember our librarian has some _imaginative_ curses floating around the place." She muttered quietly before turning around a fleeing from him.

Evan nodded and conjured himself some piping hot black coffee, no sweeteners, no cream/milk, just caffeine and sat back to contemplate what he'd learned.

The Harry Potter in this world was dead, killed that night in Godric's hallow but not by means of the Killing curse. He'd been butchered. Apparently Tom decided to have a little fun with his counter part and cut off every finger, every toe, each of his arms and legs before carving a Dark Mark into his gut and leaving him to bleed to death. Peter was captured the next week, Sirius managed to grab him, silence him, bind him, take his wand and prevent him from transforming and dragged him to Dumbledore who forced some Veritaserum down the little rat's throat. Wormtail told all and went to Azkaban where he still resides in some of the lower cells, under constant watch by Dementors and a more evolved form of the Dementor known as a Demonolith(1).

Sirius never went to Azkaban; he stayed with Remus who was also fine. Voldemort was being held back from completely taking over, it was unknown how but it was certain that an _outside_ party was keeping the situation balanced. Balanced why, no one knew, it was quite obvious that this outside force could tip the balance in favour of which ever side they deemed fit; instead they sort of managed to cease-fire between the two parties. Voldemort withdrew from Europe, realising that nothing would come from the war while those outsiders kept it equal between him and the Order. He was wasting man power and he was getting no-where.

But he still showed up every now and again with a vicious attack, displays of power that never left too much damage –save on the memory.

Evan frowned, it seemed that their outside assistance was waiting for something, for what Evan had no idea, but they were definitely waiting for something. Making sure neither side obliterated each other too soon. Hogwarts and Hogsmeade had been attacked quite frequently, and always they were repelled, also their outsiders managed to keep Voldemort from recruiting the Dementors... yet. And Evan knew that Tommy-boy's offer would eventually sway the Dementors to his side, which would probably demonise the Demonoliths in the public eye as well, the public that knew of their existance.

He got to his feet, coffee finished and put the news papers away where he found them and left the library, tossing the assistant librarian, who was struggling with a large pile of Lockhart books, a smile which she returned with an exasperated glower before leaving. Now to get the books he wanted, Flourish and Blotts was as crazy in its shelving techniques as ever but Evan found the silence and scent of parchment ink oddly soothing; it reminded him of Hermione, the sister he never admitted he had.

Mr Blott gave him an odd look when Evan dumped the books on Muggle-hand to hand fighting, Historic Muggle war-tactics, Imaginative Spell creation 101, Alternative realities: Fact or Fantasy? On the table and gave him an icy glare. The older gentleman carefully rung up the books before giving Evan a small smile,

"One moment young man. I think I have something that might interest you." He explained in his wispy light voice as he summoned the foot-stool and climbed up to explore the books on the ceiling. Evan blinked slightly in disbelief, books... on... the ceiling? OK this was new. He thought as Mr Blott evidently found the books he was looking for and tottered back to the counter with three books under his arm. First, a handsome brown leather bound book with a dull bronze clasp, lock and fastenings; second, a slim black paperback with black pages, written in silver and gold; and third, a brown Swede book with thick parchment, all of them looked rather old with slightly yellowing paper –save the black one.

"These should go well with your purchases you man. Use them well." He added with a wispy smile as he shrunk the books and put them into a specially designed feather-light paper-bag. Evan frowned lightly and shrunk the bag so it fitted into his pocket,

"Thank you Mr Blott." He said bowing slightly and leaving. Mr Blott always did unnerve him, it was probably because Mr Flourish turned out to be a Death Eater sympathiser in his world and he never knew if Mr Blott followed that trend.

Stepping out into the street, Evan frowned as he noticed a few dark cloaked people lingering in the shadows, looking very shifty and obviously plotting something. Evan rolled his eyes when he noticed that despite their paranoia, none of the other people noticed them. Idiots, the lot of them. Sniffing decisively he stalked over to the Magical Menagerie and wasn't all that surprised to see that several of the cages housed rather beaten up snakes, it seemed that people were planning on either hoping to curry favour with Tom by treating them right or to appease their own hatreds by killing the poor things.

However, Evan was surprised to see a rather large and vicious looking falcon sat upon a wooden perch in the corner beside the counter. The bird turned large intelligent amber eyes onto the young wizard and chirped oddly, tilting its head in much the way an owl would at an almost 90 degree angle as it regarded him with eyes that looked almost human.

"Excuse me," he called over to the manager who was only just visible through the red beads that separated the store from the backroom. A rather young looking brunet stepped through and raised an eyebrow fearlessly at him; Evan assumed that if you handled creatures like that falcon day in and day out then you'd probably know how to look after yourself. "That falcon, is he for sale or display?" He asked in a no-nonsense tone.

The manager looked a little taken aback, "Bruce? He's only for sale if you can handle 'im and if _we_ know, you can care for 'im." He explained, Evan nodded,

"I can care for him." he stated bluntly, the keeper wrinkled his nose in obvious disbelief, "I've cared for an owl, a snake, a hippogriff, a cross breed of fire crabs and manticores known as a Blast End Skwert, I helped someone with a Norwegian Ridgeback hatchling and later when said hatchling was of breeding age, a Thestral herd, I've had experience with a phoenix, a Kneazle crossbred with a house cat and–" whatever else Evan was about to say was cut off,

"That's... an impressive list. A Norwegian Ridgeback?" The manager asked weakly,

"We had to send him off to the reserve in Romania before he became too difficult to control."

"Well, if Brucie takes a shine to ya, who are we to stop you?" the brunet declared with a wave of his hand. Evan nodded and turned to the bird, bowing his head to the obviously intelligent bird before stepping forward and offering his hand to him in a gesture of trust.

"Hello lovely one. Aren't you beautiful? Hm? How would you like to come with me, hm? Would you like to leave this place with me?" he asked offering his fingers, the bird nibbled at his fingers, biting just a little bit too hard and drawing blood before eyeing Evan to gauge his reaction. The human didn't even flinch or bat an eye-lid. The bird tilted his head again assessing the motionless human before shrieking slightly, spreading his considerable wings and hopping onto his forearm, claws digging in to get a good grip and still the human did not flinch at the pain. He would do. Bruce trilled slightly and hopped up to Evan's shoulder, this time being careful that his sharp claws didn't cause his new friend any harm as he began to tug that the black hair looking as if he was grooming the 17-year-old.

Evan looked to the manager who simply smiled, "That'll be 11 Galleons sir, and this is on the house." He added handing over a small bag with some live mice inside, "He eats quite a bit so I suggest you keep him with you until he gets used to your magical signature and is certain to return after hunting. These should keep his attention on you for long enough."

"Thank you." He said pouring out the required amount of galleons and taking the bag with the live mice. Just as everything went to hell outside, and a woman ran past screaming:

"DEATH EATERS! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

Anything else she was about to say was suddenly cut short when she started screaming and writhing as a bolt of red cruciatus struck her in the back of the head.

Evan sighed rolling his eyes, "They never let up do they, Bruce?" He questioned the falcon which simply gave him a look which conveyed rather avian-like distain, as opposed to the serpentine distain Evan was accustomed to. He would have to hold true to his promise and find the Kyra from this world.

Looking for all the world like there was nothing happening outside, Evan strolled out of the Menagerie with Bruce perched upon his shoulder, the bird watching the scenery with regal distain, and a slight malicious smirk curved on the youth's lips that promised copious amounts of mayhem for the approaching Death Nibblers. Stepping out he cast a glance to the woman writhing on the floor and flicked out his second wand –oh yeah, he had a second wand, the Holly and phoenix feather wand was all well and good but it was a wand of Light, therefore, pretty bollocks when it came to fighting in a war. Evan's second wand was one that he received half-way through what should have been his sixth year at Hogwarts; Remus, Ryuu and an American witch –Selene Greyback the wife of Fenrir Greyback's younger brother Ixion Greyback the first person he Turned, spirited Harry out of the UK to Germany where they had a custom wand made for him.

11 and a half inches, Ash, bathed in the blood of various magical based creatures with enough bits and pieces of said creatures acting as his core to be considered property of Germany. This wand was most in-tune with his magic, not his ideals or the ideals others expected him to possess, with this wand Death Eaters learned to fear him.

"_Finite Incantatem_." He reeled off listlessly enforcing his will to snap the curse from the woman's body. "I suggest you take shelter in Knockturn Alley ma'am, I can guarantee they won't be attacking that place any time soon. Go on, shoo." He ushered her off with a careless wave of his hand while Bruce gave her a sharp amber glare before shrieking loudly. "I know Bruce, let's have some fun. Go for the morons in the masks won't you? Aim for the eyes." He added gleefully smirking darkly when the falcon have him the avian equivalent of a grin before spreading his considerable wings and taking to the air.

Humming cheerfully, Evan sauntered down the alley, snapping curses on innocents and telling them to get the hell out of the area, throwing some rather nasty curses at idiots in Muncher Masks while Bruce soared over-head and dropped into lethal dives, cruelly hooked beak and sharp talons aiming for the eye sockets and throat when he could reach them. Evan chuckled as one of them started screaming about the Order of the Phoenix when he saw his comrade getting mauled by the large bird.

"Does he look like a flaming turkey? Moron." Evan commented lightly side stepping an Entrail Exploding curse and tossing back a _Petroseos_(2) and chuckling nastily at the screaming that ensued.

All in all it was merry mayhem up and down the alley as Evan freed innocents, the innocents fled, Death Munchers were in chaos as an unknown attacker and a _bird_ continued to force them back. It was all rather amusing in Evan's opinion, evidently the years of inactivity had left these Death Eaters almost comatose with lethargy, honestly, in his world they would be faster, more accurate and definitely already running at the sight of him. Oh well, he had to give these Death Munchers _some_ props, they acted more like Gryffindors than Evan did.

"Oh please, you'd think _one_ of them would be able to give me a good challenge, wouldn't you Bruce?" he called over to the flacon who was perched upon a stupefied and unconscious Death Eater sprawled out in front of the Ice Cream parlour. Evan regarded the empty establishment mournfully, "I guess that mintilicious and toffee-tastic Sunday is out of the question now." He commented sadly, side stepping another curse without looking his attacker's way and retaliating with a slightly mangled _Episkey_ –designed to fuse the joints together kind of like a Body-Bind but much more painful.

And finally, the Order of the Phoenix flooded into the alley, dressed in full Order regalia –Dark red robes trimmed in shimmering gold with a large phoenix emblazoned on the right side, large gold wings extending over the chest and around the back.

Evan raised an eyebrow, those outfits would get them killed, so heavy and cumbersome, they were more likely to get caught on something because of those –not to mention laughed at, than hit by a hex. Now, he wondered, how fast would the Order take to respond if they _hadn't_ stopped for a wardrobe change?

Rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of it all he whistled sharply summoning Bruce back to him, the falcon looked rebellious for a moment before taking wing and returning to his new master who cooed slightly running those clever fingers through his feathers, almost turning the fearsome blood-splattered predator into a feathery puddle of goo. Evan chuckled watching as now the Death Eaters finally came to the same genius idea Evan thought of the moment everything descended into mayhem, apparating away.

"Well done geniuses. I see the penny has finally dropped." He commented to himself while perched quite comfortably on one of the tables outside the Ice Cream parlour, continuing to pet his falcon. Politely ignoring the Order as they raced around like headless chickens making a racket and generally adding to the chaotic atmosphere, Bruce chirped in distain at the stupid actions and Evan had to nod.

"Yes, they are rather foolish aren't they, Bruce." He agreed pointedly ignoring the fact that Moody was sneaking up behind him in the attitude of throwing a couple of nasty curses at his unprotected back. "And if that charming Auror continues to sneak up behind us things might get ugly for him since we're being very co-operative and not getting in the Order's way. Aren't we Brucie?" he cooed running his knuckles down the bird's chest prompting another chirp of pleasure at the attention.

Moody growled and shoved his wand in his pocket before clunking over to Evan his magical eye revolving rapidly around the area before fixing itself onto Evan as if attempting to peel back any glamour or disillusionments –which it probably was.

"What can I do for you Retired-Auror Moody?" he asked smiling pleasantly at him, ignoring the irritated clicking of Bruce who'd hopped to his other shoulder and was glaring at the grizzled Auror with wary golden eyes. Alastor bristled at the friendly tone more than the words used,

"You stupid boy? Sittin' around calm as you please while Death Eaters storm the street! This ain't no spectator sport for kids." He snarled, Evan rolled his eyes,

"Don't get your knickers in a twist old man. I know what I'm doing. Constant Vigilance was hammered into my head from a very young age I assure you." He declared bluntly before turning away, "as for Death Nibblers storming the alley... if you lot hadn't wasted so much time putting on your fancy costumes you would have been here faster, and not have to have your battles fought by a kid." He snapped sharply giving the rather surprised (Evan could swear he saw some budding respect in the old bear's eyes... eye.) retired Auror a steel hard fridged glare.

With those ever so cutting words of wisdom, Evan got to his feet, nodded his head ever so slightly before stalking off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron where he could floo back to the Three Broomsticks and get some dinner, maybe introduce Bruce to Madam Rosmerta. Evan grimaced, damn; he was going to have to get a job! He couldn't exactly walk into Gringotts and take out any more money and he'd raided all the vaults that belonged to him in the other world –taking everything of value. But when Gringotts fell, Harry had to make due with what he had.

"Excuse me m'boy!" Summoned a familiar voice that made Evan stop in his tracks, a small smirk twisting on his lips. He turned slightly and had to stifle his laughter when he saw Dumbledore striding over with Moody in tow and...

His breath hitched painfully in his throat when he saw the other two, amber and blue eyes, mousy brown and black hair, Remus and Sirius. Shock, pain, hope and sadness all warred for dominance in his heart but Evan thrust them aside with Occlumency –he would break down later, he had to deal with that manipulative old bastard now and he needed all his wits about him.

"What can I do for you Headmaster Dumbledore?" he queried smirking ever so slightly at the falter in Dumbledore's expression. _'Ha! Got one over you, you old coot!_' he mentally crowed, doing a happy-dance.

"Yes, Alastor here tells me that you stayed to help fend off the Death Eaters before we arrived," the headmaster began and Evan's smirk dropped, leaving a cold mask of stoicism that greatly unnerved Dumbledore. He was used to being able to read people with ease, but this stranger was... unreadable.

Remus frowned slightly tilting his head as he examined the stranger; he smelt young, not much older than the seventh years at Hogwarts but... he also smelt almost as old as Albus. He was powerful, he practically reeked of it. The boy was not much taller than 6'0" in height but he held himself in a way that made him seem taller, long black hair to his shoulders was pulled back to a ponytail at the nape of his neck, allowing shorter strands of raven black hair to scatter across his forehead and frame his face. Lightly tanned skin stretched over an oddly familiar face, dark emerald eyes suddenly cold and flinty putting the werewolf in mind of the Killing Curse. Not many people dared to wear muggle-clothing out in public anymore and yet this young man was dressed as a normal muggle teenager without a care in the world. An ankle length leather trench coat, a pair of dark blue baggy jeans pooled slightly over a pair of black Converse trainers, a number of belts across the boy's waist accompanied by a chain which Remus could faintly smell some blood from –it was obviously not for decoration judging by those nasty bladed weights at the end of it. He also wore a dark green shirt with a lace up collar under his trench coat, a single gold locket around his neck and a couple of piercings in his ears.

Remus didn't doubt that the boy had a number of different weapons on his person, he reminded him of an Auror commando from America. Those lads did not play defence and they were not above using Muggle science or weaponry to get the job done. The word _'professional_' came to mind as he stared at the young man who seemed _so familiar._

"Yes I did. And I'll tell you the same thing I told your esteemed Retiree. If you hadn't spent so much time playing dress-up, I wouldn't have had to do your job for you." He pointed out coolly watching in glee as Dumbledore's face displayed obvious signs of shock, Sirius's jaw promptly dropped, Remus looked as if he wanted to either burst out laughing or rip his jugular out and Moody wasn't even bothering with hiding his amusement and was grinning like a loon. He liked this kid.

It took the old man a couple of seconds to gather himself while Evan calmly watched the proceedings with a half amused smirk curled on his lips, "Might I enquire as to your name?" He asked, Evan smirked shrugging a shoulder.

"No you may not." He replied once again smiling pleasantly as the twinkle dimmed in Dumbledore's eye and Sirius was glaring a burning hole into Evan's face while Remus and Moody looked far too amused by the verbal sparring.

"He wasn't giving you a choice in the matter! Who the hell are you?" Sirius snapped,

"My, my. So nasty." He cooed smirking at Sirius, "How often do you let this one out of the kennel? He's in serious need of a lesson at _obedience school_." It hurt a lot to say, but it was important to alienate everyone before they got hurt. And judging but the way Sirius went pale at the obvious 'dog' connotations in his sentence before flushing and by the sudden darkening of Sirius's stormy Prussian blue eyes, Evan was about to be the proud receiver of a nasty hex if he carried on.

Dumbledore, however, cut in again, throwing a warning glance to Sirius. "These are dark times and too few people have the courage to stand against evil. The Wizarding world has hope when people such as yourself refuse to be ignorant of its troubles. As such, we require to know certain information so that we might follow your fine example." Evan snorted; oh how very savvy, sadly, twisting those words wouldn't work with him.

"Ignorance is a sin, my dear Headmaster. I knew what I was doing when I set out tonight."

The coot beamed at him.

"Have you ever considered a career with the Aurors? The Ministry could use men like yourself."

"The Ministry is staffed by idiots. If I wanted to follow an idiot I would rather kiss the Dark Lord's hem."

Dumbledore just smiled at him. His distain for the Ministry was clear enough, though that had already been a heavy suspicion beforehand. His distaste for Voldemort was now apparent, something that all three observing wizards were very grateful for and one was rather deflated over –he'd hoped to hex the annoying brat.

"Now if you'll excuse me, my falcon is getting antsy and the scent of blood has never been one I was fond of." He stated coolly smirking as the four wizards jolted in surprise, moving to grab him before he apparated out.

Idiots, they were sorely underestimating him and it would cost them. Dearly.

"Bye-bye!" He cooed waving slightly even as he popped out of existence. Not knowing that the three males –Moody excluded, had just crashed into each other.

Evan chuckled smugly reappearing in Hogsmeade, popping out again, this time reappearing in Knockturn Alley and then popping out again –this time outside the Burrow before popping back to the Three Broomsticks laughing haughtily as he imagined the cursing of certain Wizards when they learned that Evan was capable of several apparation hops in quick succession, which made tracking nigh impossible.

Still laughing he nodded to Madam Rosmerta and climbed up stairs, supporting a rather ruffled but subdued Bruce on his shoulder and stepped into his room, conjuring a perch which the falcon flew to almost instantly and dropped onto the bed. Still chortling, fell asleep with a smile on his lips.

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**(1) Demonolith:** A creature I borrowed from FFX, I make no claim to it. I just tweaked some stuff so it would fit with the story.

_Demonoliths are rather skeletal like creatures, bound into the very stone around then, the looked almost like decayed dinosaur bones with large poisonous claws, not much was known about Demonoliths. But where ever Dementors seemed to reside they eventually showed up, there is a rumour that a that Dementor that ate over 100 souls, would merge into the very walls and become a Demonolith a creature that required souls to live. They could no longer perform the kiss on their victims but instead, they snagged the passing Dementors and ate the souls straight out of them. The Dementor would be fine afterward, a little weaker and would need to feed aggressively for a while before it was capable of normal Dementor activity but only a Demonolith could release the Dementor's consumed souls. There was only ever one recording of a Demonolith releasing its souls, and that was when it had been stabbed with a silver dagger coated with unknown potions and spells and ritually burned. Witnesses were required to spent a few days in St Mungos exorcist ward afterwards as the released souls could not find their way to the after-life so they chose to possess those in the room to try and regain their lives. It took a full contingency from the Ministry to exorcise all 675 known souls from the area and victims_.

(Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them extract on Demonoliths. (**I made it up**.))

**(2) Petroseos:** A high-level Earth manipulation spell in Ancient Greek. Based on the caster's will, it can either be a huge wave of soil used to bury or suffocate an opponent or it can be used to form several spears/spikes/splinters of stone to attack the target, it can also be used in conjunction with other spells to create other effects like Golems or speed along the growing process of certain plants based on the materials already on hand. Highly difficult to control, a MASTERs(3) level spell.

**(3) MASTERs:** Just to clear this part up. The magical education system seems pretty close to what we already have in England, OWLs for our GCSEs, NEWT for our A-levels so a MASTERs would be close to a degree. Sufficed to say, not many Witches and Wizards manage to get a MASTERs degree because to do so would mean they had to go for an extra couple of years education, though for the select gifted a MASTERs can be taken at home –in between work and even during the NEWT or OWL preparation if they're exceptionally gifted. The MASTERs exam is taken every two years at the Ministry of Magic in one of the Court-rooms under Auror guard to prevent any cheating. Those with a MASTERs degree can get any profession they wish as long as that MASTERs corresponds with it. (_The reason Harry can use this spell is because he spent all that extra time training in the Room of Requirement to learn all the advanced spells he could. The reason why he didn't age while in the room is because essentially he was just reliving the same hour over and over again. His body aged as if it would outside the room._)

**Nyahahaha! X3 Evan's going to be a serious pain in the arse for the Death Munchers!**

**I think its time we move the plot along a little, don't you?**

**Review pleasums! Its your words of support that keep this going... actually lots of Diet Coke and free time does but I still love hearing what you guys think!**

Araceil


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:** Holy Merlin in a Bikini

The Daily Prophet the next morning held the battle in all of its gory details, Evan had to smirk when he read the part about him, they down played his roll and made it seem like he got in the way more than helped. He shook his head and sipped at his Coffee, now a days a strong mug of black coffee was the only thing that completely woke him up aside from a solid adrenaline boost. Evan had started to develop a dependency upon the Dreamless Sleep Potion at the start of his sixth year having been taking it repeatedly over the holidays, he had brewed a lot of it during the school months in his private little potion lab –Moaning Murtle's lavatory, she was happy to keep his comings and goings secret as he chatted to her while brewing the potions.

Evan smirked, no one seemed to realise just how much Miss Murtle heard while haunting the loos, water carried sound well and most of the pipes were inter-connected, add to that the girls of Hogwarts were surprisingly astute and liked to gossip like starlings. Some of the things that ghost had heard came in handy a great number of times. Especially when Hogwarts was on the verge of destruction, not that it helped much then but at least Evan was able to get all the students and teachers and families still within the castle out before everything died.

With a heavy sigh Evan refilled his mug with a flick from his Holly wand –currently under glamour to appear as a 13 and a half inch, Roan, dragon heartstring wand.

He needed to gather his allies, this _peace_ would not last much longer, Voldemort was getting restless and it seemed that their Outside Balancer had withdrawn from Europe, something which Evan was beginning to suspect Shi No Yami-sama's hand in. Bloody woman was even more omnipotent than Dumbledore, probably because she had spied everywhere and no where, chasing her was like trying to chase shadows; run, run, run, as fast as you can, stretch out your fingers and grab, only to have it slip through your fingers with a wisp and a giggle. Rolling his eyes Evan conjured some parchment and a fountain pen –he hated quills, apply too much pressure and the nib either splits getting ink everywhere or it spits little droplets everywhere and also makes a mess, and started to write a letter.

_Dear Selene Greyback,_

Evan paused, uncertain about how to continue it, after all if you got a random note from some stranger who seemed to know everything about you and your family you'd be a bit freaked out. Evan sighed instead and shrugged, he needed allies and Selene could give them, add to that the woman was capable of destroying Voldemort herself, if not for that bloody pesky prophesy that stated _he_ had to do it. Bah! What Evan wouldn't give for a loop-hole in that, but no, Hermione, Ryuu and Selene herself had gone through the whole thing, _Harry_ had to kill Voldemort. He couldn't get anyone else to do it for him. Boo.

With a sigh Evan continued with his letter, writing the first thing that popped into his brain as if he was having a prolonged rant at the woman, he explained a little about why he was there and what he'd done in his Reality concerning Voldemort and the repercussions of it. She probably already knew the whole story via Ryuu's Sight, her Divination abilities had always been erratic, much like Evan's, sometimes she could be as vague as Trelawney on a faker day and other times she could be as blunt and detailed as an X-rated porn movie.

Vanishing the pen he got to his feet and left his coffee mug, Rosie would clear it up with a flick of her wand and trudged back upstairs. After sending his letter off with Bruce, next stop, Gringotts. This would take some _very_ fast footwork, but Goblins were concerned with prophet, not politics unless that directly affected Prophets. Keeping Evan's true identity secret would be very good for business, if they didn't, they would have one super powerful angry S.O.B. tearing down their wards and going on a merry bloodbath befitting his psychotic Animagus.

Sighing wearily Evan glared at his thumb and slit it open using an extended claw from his Animagus; Ron had taken to naming them since Evan had so many, it became tiring to refer to them as their species. There was Shadow, Flare, Skales (pronounced like '_scales_'.) Feathers –a name which Evan abhorred yet it seemed to stick, Akai meaning red in Japanese and the last form... Evan just called him Shinigami.

Cutting his thumb open Evan pressed the bloody appendage into his door-handle, locking and unlocking his door with a spell specifically designed to home in on his blood, this idea had been a particular stroke of genius on Hermione's part when she discovered the whole branch of Blood-Magic. Evan liked the sound of the whole Blood-Magic jazz, it sounded very useful, something he could use against Voldemort... but it wasn't meant to be.

Blood meant life, without blood you'd die but not in the same manner as a Vampire. All creatures need blood, save Dementors and Demonoliths, simply because they _weren't alive!_ Even Vampires need blood to stay alive. Evan could not perform Blood-Magic in the same way as his friends, the Killing Curse prevented him, he was tied too closely with Death to use Blood-Magic, his talents would lead him closer to Necromancy –something he refused point blank to do on the principle that anything that had been under ground that long would stink enough do make him puke, and Soul Magic which he already had direct blood ties with through Rowena Morrigan. What true Blood-Magic he did have was his Animagus Sealing, so many powerful forms would consume his very soul if he didn't seal them before he reached his magical maturity, add to that Voldemort had been feeding on his Magic since he was an infant and things got complicated. The Ritual almost killed him but he managed to Seal his counter-parts. True Blood-Magic was beyond Evan so he found a way to adapt; Selene, Donovan and their old Headmistress –Nirvana Cassidy, at the Varden Academy of Magic had helped out immensely, discovering a way for Evan to perform the same feats as Blood-Magic using Potion based crutches. However, once he learned how to control his Animagus forms, such crutches became needless because he figured out the knack for merging some of his attributes with those of his Animagi. Wings, horns, claws, skin, breathing fire... Evan discovered that he was lucky not to be able to perform Blood-Magic like his friends; their runes prevented such a melding of their Animagi in all cases save Ryuu, Selene and Donovan who... had Shinigami too. He also had another little perk from the Animagi Seal coupled with the Magical abilities of his Counter-Parts, his Runes could unravel and twist into a magical Armour capable of blocking an _Imperio_ and a _Crucio_, but only with a lot of effort and training. Sad to say Evan's abilities at shrugging off the Cruciatus, even with the armour, were poor. He could fight off the imperios without the Runes and do it with ease, but he couldn't do the same with the Cruciatus, he could take the pain but he just couldn't push it off and he was already immune to the Killing Curse –unless it came from Tommy-boy's wand tip.

Kicking the door shut behind him Evan beckoned Bruce over, the falcon blinked at him and winged over to the boy's arm as he went over to the window, "Take this to Selene Greyback, Bruce. Shi No Yami. She may wish to reply so please stay unless she bids you leave. Do _NOT_ allow anyone to take this letter, if they try and you cannot protect it, destroy it and come back. This must not be intercepted, understand?" Evan asked tying the letter to the falcon's left leg, Bruce screeched in understanding, pecking Evan on the head as if reprimanding him for expecting anything less and took off out of the window.

For a brief moment, Evan missed Hedwig, his Snowy owl had been a good friend –a lot more patient than Bruce, she had been smart and brave and beautiful. He just hoped she had a good owner now, maybe one that wouldn't get her into so much trouble or end up in the Hospital Wing most of his life. With a sigh he turned to the dresser where he'd laid out everything he had on the Death Eaters, safe houses, bases and Spies. He had a folder with Order personnel as well, along with one for the Ministry. It was very important to know where your players were. Especially if you planned to win. If Dumbledore thought he was good at this game... Evan smirked; he wouldn't know what hit him.

The smirk deepened as the 17-year-old turned back to his trunk and used the same bloody thumb to open it, muttering a soft healing spell on said thumb he peered through his Potion stocks and picked out a Head-ache reliever, a fever reliever and an accidental magic suppressant.

Digging around in Tommy's brain was always a pain, here, it was worse.

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Diagon Alley was still on high-alert, some of the buildings were still smoking and Evan couldn't help but feel a little smug when he saw the mangled remains of a Death Eater unfortunate to get caught by his _Petroseos_. Frankly the Idiot deserved it, he thought mercilessly by-passing the Auror's who were busy eyeing all the Alley inhabitants and fingering their wands. He ignored them pointedly as he approached Gringotts, brushing past another Auror who made as if to stop him but thought better of it.

'_That's it you coward, just let a potential Death Eater breeze past you because he's scary. Pfft, I'm surprised these people have survived so long. Probably Dumbledore's fault._' He thought laconically, hell, if Dumbledore wanted to keep the idiots alive who was he to argue? Stupidity kills, just not nearly enough, there will _always_ be idiots in the world, its how you tell the difference between survivors and Politicians. Snorting slightly at his own little joke Evan breezed through the almost empty bank –not many people were considering leaving their homes at the moment, too scared that a Death Nibbler might jump them.

"Excuse me." He snapped at one of the Goblins, for goblins time was money and liars and cheaters were liabilities. They thrived on getting to the point and survival, Evan's kind of people. Despite the fact they had a ridiculous fear of werewolves, frankly, the goblins should be more worried about the Vampires.

The diminutive keeper of the Account-Ledger (A very, _very_ important position for a Goblin.) peered over his desk to the Human who had demanded his attention so abruptly, "Yess?" He demanded in a very nasally tone that clearly indicted he thought lower of Evan than he did of the floor.

"I wish to speak with your manager. Now." He snarled, watching the goblin with cold emerald eyes. The withered creature sniffed and ran a long knobbly finger down one of the orbs floating beside his desk, sniffing when it turned a deep red in reply.

"Through that door."

Evan didn't bother to thank the creature and turned on heel, conversation wasn't a forte of Goblin society so they never saw much point in conversing with any other species save the Fae who were one of the few they got along with. Rolling his eyes at the numerous silver objects littering the room, there was even powdered silver on the plants –which were withering because of it; Evan breezed through the corridor ignoring the portraits of various Goblin managers which watched him with haughty superiority.

Knocking on the far door once he stepped in without waiting. "Goldfarb, we need to talk." He announced watching the even more withered and gnarled goblin blink from behind his half-moon glasses in the most prominent display or surprise he'd seen from a goblin since the Goldfarb of his world walked in on Ryuu and Donovan making out against a wall.

It took the old goblin a moment or two to realise, "Mr Potter?"

The rest of the evening was spent going over Evan's options; he had full access to all his vaults, even Slytherin which would accept him despite Tom being its true lord. Ah how Evan loved loopholes. He could get into any property he wished as none of them had been seized by the Ministry and were being held in trust by one Sirius Black; Evan almost groaned realising that he would have to be extra careful, if Sirius got wind of the Potter Vaults or properties being active...

"Now, since you were astute enough to realise just _who_ I was when I walked through your door, then you shall surely know that this will remain private." The 17-year-old growled with a steely cold glare at the Goblin. Goblin's magic revolved around time and metals and stone, hence why they often made the best weapons and wards, hence why Goldfarb was capable of knowing just _who_ walked into his office because the Harry of this world had been in there before. When his mother was pregnant with him.

Goldfarb nodded, "Telling anyone of your continued good health would be bad for business. Add to that it would give the Ministry one hell of a headache and who can argue?" The goblin admitted vindictively. Oh yes, Evan was beginning to remember why he liked Goldfarb so much. Who _can_ argue with giving the Ministry some well deserved grief? Aside from those idiots who work for it and don't think that they are idiots and Evan thought he should really discontinue this line of thought before he confused himself into a migraine.

"Remember that silver has no effect on Shinigami in case your jaw starts to slacken." Evan sneered; sometimes it helped to add a little threat onto your demands, just to prove how serious you are. And thankfully, Goldfarb was as familiar with the legend of Shinigami here as he was back home in Terra(1). The goblin's eyes went wide as the implications of his words sank in and he nodded furiously, if there was one thing Goblins feared more than werewolves it was Dementors, Demonoliths and Shinigami.

'_Death comes in many forms._' Evan thought grimly as he turned and stalked away from the manager's office, smirking slightly as the portraits outside now viewed him with fearful eyes –some held a little respect, but that number was very slim, it took a lot more for a goblin to respect a human than to fear them.

Exiting Gringotts with a rather full pouch Evan smirked at the Auror who tried to stop him earlier and entered into Madam Malkins to hunt for some Wizarding robes, true Evan felt much more comfortable in Muggle wear than those... multicoloured dresses, but he felt that he had to fit in somehow, even if it was just getting an over robe and vanishing it the moment it came to a fight. Anything so he didn't stick out like a sore thumb.

And of course, it had to be Evan's bad luck to walk in on Draco and Narcissa Malfoy getting their own robes for the new term. Despite their rivalry in Hogwarts, Evan discovered he never had any true feelings of resentment toward the Malfoy heir, while he may be snotty, rude, egotistical and arrogant it was hard to forget that he turned his back on the Dark Lord in the middle of a meeting and cursed Bellatrix Lestrange when the psycho bitch tried to kill his mother. Equally, Evan felt nothing akin to hatred for Narcissa Malfoy, her son was almost a carbon copy of her save for the fact she sounded bitchy and he sounded whiny while Lucius –Evan didn't know at _what_ crazy point in his life he began to pity the poor bloke, had to put up with the both of them _and_ his pissy master.

He ignored the ferret and looked at the woman, "Hogwarts too dear?" She asked approaching Evan,

"No. I'm looking for Over robes. Grey, brown, green, black and red." He stated coolly pointedly ignoring both blondes as they eyed him curiously. Evan glanced to Draco and blinked in shock, was he...

Oh. Holy. Merlin. In a bikini.

He was.

Glancing to Narcissa he swallowed slightly nervously, they both were. Wasn't she supposed to be Married? And the fuck? Draco was... was he straight? Evan blinked casting his mind back, now that he thought about it, he wasn't so sure. After all the years of hanging around the blonde Draco never gave any indication of being attracted to one sex or the other, sure Pansy would hang off of him but that was because if she didn't get a decent husband with a steady flow of cash before leaving Hogwarts she would be married off to her Great-Uncle's son who was at least twice her age.

"This way young man." Trilled the assistant as she lead Evan over to one of the stools, standing up upon it he allowed the woman to take his measurements, personally he didn't think that measuring between each nostril would be useful to getting an over-robe and he made sure that she knew he disliked the contact by glaring with enough force to incinerate Buckbeak where he stood, causing her to drain of all colour and tremble every time he looked her way.

After that everything went relatively quickly, until she came out with fabric samples. That was went things descended into the Twilight zone and Evan felt like kicking himself or preferably fate for being such a cruel _bitch_.

"What do you think you are doing young lady?" Narcissa snapped stepping forward as the Assistant began to pin and pinch the fabric as where appropriate, "That colour looks atrocious on him, get a darker shade of red. Crimson." She commanded terrifying the young woman into the back of the shop to hunt down the requested fabric.

Narcissa tutted irritably and picked up the light red coloured over-robe as if it were diseased and tossed it as far away from her as possible. "Honestly luv, men have no fashion sense, if you must go shopping bring a girlfriend, least you end up looking like Albus Dumbledore dressing in the dark." The blonde commented bluntly eyeing Evan up and down making him obscenely uncomfortable.

"Appearances mean very little to me madam." He stated firmly and neglected to mention he didn't _have_ a girlfriend, especially with Draco eyeing him up like that. It was severely off-putting and more than a little creepy.

"They do to me." Narcissa declared huffily, "This is my son Draco, my name is Narcissa, a pleasure to meet you Mr..." she trailed off evidently requesting his name, Evan withheld a shiver as Draco once again looked him up an down with a leery expression on his face.

"Evan Mortifer. A pleasure I'm sure." He said demurely taking her hand and giving it a few pumps before dropping it, she seemed rather surprised that he didn't kiss her hand but Evan wasn't about to go that far, his level of manners extended to not showing up at a dinner party with weaponry in plain view.

"I don't recognise you from Hogwarts," Draco pointed out once again looking Evan up and down in a way that said 'and believe me I would have noticed' which made him want to shiver or throw up all the more, "What school do you attend?"

"I don't." Evan stated waiting for the assistant to return, idly fiddling with the chain around his waist, prepared to wrench it loose and use it to break Draco's neck if he made a threatening move. Narcissa was obviously familiar with the weapon because she gave it and Evan one last appraising look before backing out of range and leaving her precious Bratling within the line of fire.

"Don't what?" Asked the blonde rather gormlessly,

"Attend school. Dropped out in my fifth year." Evan answered once again twisting around to look for that Dragon-damned assistant. Draco's nose wrinkled, obviously thinking Evan was some kind of idiot,

"So you never passed your OWLs?" He sneered, Evan shook his head,

"I dropped out because I was taking my MASTERs. No point in sticking around if it's not worth the effort." He stated bluntly, not really paying attention to Draco and looking anywhere _but_ the two blondes who were now staring at him. He blinked, "Something on my face?" He asked sharply, indicting that they should really stop staring.

It was then that the assistant arrived to save Evan from the mother and son duo, carrying a dark crimson over robe, a dark emerald one that matched Evan's eyes, a dark warm grey one, a dark chocolate and earthy brown pair and an inky black one with very dark grey trimmings. Not bothering to try them on he paid for them, fully prepared to correct the sizes when he got back to his room in the Three Broomsticks before shrinking everything and making his way over to the cottage he owned just a few miles out of Hogsmeade –if it was still habitable.

"Evan luv, you simply must come and have dinner with us!" Narcissa exclaimed clinging to his arm startling Evan almost to the point of pulling that lovely miniaturised cattle prod from his back pocket. Ixion had pointed out that electrocution got you taken more seriously than an unforgivable. So far, he'd been right.

"No. I think not, I have other matters to attend to." He stated carefully extracting his arm from her care,

"Oh pish posh, you _have_ to come to dinner with us. Whatever it is can wait!" she cooed once again taking him by the arm, "Draco darling, flank him so Evan luv doesn't escape." Evan didn't know what was more mortifying, walking in on Selene and Ixion making out, or having Draco link his arm with his in public. Evan really didn't have anything against homosexuals, hell; his cousin was gay with a vampire over 4000 years older than him, but still. He had serious problems about Draco being gay and holding his arm like that. It was creepy as hell. Almost as if Snape started handing out sweets and declaring his undying love for Sirius while wearing pink and having his hair washed and pulled back with a red and gold ribbon. Twilight zone anyone? Or just plain horror movie.

"No, Mrs Malfoy, its quite alright but I really have–" Narcissa silenced him with a sharp look which made Evan sigh in defeat and crane his eyes heavenwards almost begging whatever deity that existed to please strike him down with lightning or at least smite Mrs Malfoy so he could escape while Draco threw a 10-year-old tantrum.

Sadly there were no lightning bolts or giant fingers to squish people that answered his prayers and Evan distinctly heard Draco sniggering on his left.

Dinner was a nightmare, if Narcissa wasn't outright flirting with him then it was Draco, they also seemed to be waiting for Mr Malfoy who showed up by the end of the first course and arched an eyebrow over Evan's presence before asking Draco if he was seeing him and then without waiting for an answer launched into the whole over-protective father routine which made Evan vehemently wish he could vanish through walls like Shadow Kat from X-Men evolution, or teleport like Kurt. Either would be useful at the moment.

"Mr Malfoy, your son and I are not seeing each other. We just met literally half an hour ago in Madam Malkins, now if you are quite finished with those baseless accusations, I'm leaving." Evan snapped, finally having enough as he got to his feet, "Thank you for the meal, but I really do have to go." He stated tossing down three galleons, enough to cover the drink he ordered and attempted to walk away.

"But Evan luv! You know Lucy didn't mean it!" Narcissa exclaimed getting up, Evan gritted his teeth and didn't bother turning around.

"Mrs Malfoy, while I thank you for your assistance in the store I have better places to be and more important things to do. No offence but time is money." He growled before stalking away, snarling at the waitress who got in his way causing her to squeak and stumble backwards spilling expensive wine all over her blouse.

Narcissa sat down with a thoughtful expression on her face, "What are you thinking Cissa?" Lucius asked softly noting the scheming glint in his wife's eyes.

"I never told him our last names." She pointed out thoughtfully.

"He was a rather secretive one wasn't he, mother?" Draco asked lightly knowing full well what was going through his mother's mind. After all, it was the almost the same thing going through his.

'_By the spirits, he had a nice ass._' Like he said, almost the same.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hogsmeade was once again basking in merriment even as rain hammered down creating what would be a rather depressing atmosphere, but never the less, people were celebrating and drinking and being cheerful.

Evan rolled his eyes and massaged the back of his neck, bloody hell, he knew it would be a long day but never thought it would be quite so stressful, his nerves were shot to hell. While he may have made some peace with the Draco and Narcissa of his world, the Lucius he knew actually tried to kill both of them for turning their backs on Voldemort. It hadn't been pretty and Draco almost went insane after having to murder his own father, not surprisingly the blonde aristocrat became remarkably cool toward Harry after that.

And this world everything had to have been turned on its head, Draco was gay and checking him out. Would the weirdness of this place _ever_ make sense to him?

Probably not. With a heavy sigh Evan waved to Rosmerta, ignored the startled exclamation of Sirius-and-Remus chatting in the corner with the Weasley twins and carried on upstairs, fully intent on that bath tub, at least an hour soaking away the aches and tense muscles before passing out on his bed for at least 12 hours before moving out of the Three Broomsticks. He didn't realise that even as he fantasised about that lovely hot bath, Sirius and Remus had asked Fred to go and fetch Dumbledore.

George Weasley frowned, "What so special about that guy? He didn't look any older than Ronnikins."

Sirius scowled while Remus shook his head, "He's the lad who fought in the Diagon Alley attack. The one Moody's been raving about since and the Death Eaters keep cursing about." The werewolf explained, George whistled,

"Brave kid." He commented. Remus chuckled,

"I think Sirius would have liked him. If it hadn't been for the terrible dog puns."

George found it difficult to breathe through his laughter after that point.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**Sorry, couldn't resist the situation at the end. X3 its just going to make things all the more annoying for Evan because Fate likes pissing all over his plans.**

**(1) Terra and Gaia:** Well, Evan has to call the different realities _something_. So, he calls his original one Gaia and the one he is currently inhabiting Terra. They both mean Earth but in Latin and Greek so we're all good on that.


	5. Author's note

**Okay.**

**I'm going to be painfully honest with you guys right now. I've had a few comments pointing out plagiarism and looking back over the stuff I have written, I can safely say, it's obvious. I can tell you that I didn't do it intentionally; I am still guilty of it though.**

**Hence why, I'm going to be removing '**_A Second Chance for Life_**'. And rewriting it with my original ideas. No matter how crap they may be.**

**I apologise to you all and to the author's whose genius I abducted. **

**Now since an entire chapter of Author's notes is not allowed, I'll post a bit about the rewrite I'm planning.**

Title: The end of Days

Rating: T or M

Full Summary: AU. Harry defeats Voldemort but not without a price. Wanted for war crimes by the Americans, Harry –with the help of Selene and Fawkes, leaves his world and enters into another one. One where Voldemort's campaign of terror continued and conquered Europe. Hogwarts is now the thrown of the Dark Lord, his crowning achievement, the Ministry is in Ruins and the whole of Europe is under the dark thrall of their Emperor. What's a guy to do aside from join the rebellion?

**Hopefully this will be posted up soon, but I have college starting again and pretty soon, so don't be hoping for anymore of my speedy updates. I'm going to be snowed under AS and A2 coursework and homework.**

Sincerely,

Araceil.


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